Too Late Now
by StarkContrastStartles
Summary: Ziva has been lying comatose in a hospital bed for a year now. Tony visits her daily and reflects on missed opportunities and apologises. Will Ziva ever wake up? Can they express their love? How she will recover? Tiva, Jibbs, McAbby but mostly TIVA
1. I Love You

Everyone had thought that his visits would become less frequent as time went on but Tony reverently kept his promise to Ziva. He drove to the hospital every morning at 5 and sat staring at her helpless form lying prostrate in the bed until he had to leave to get to work on time. Then, at lunch, he would slip back for a few minutes and tell her all about the case. After work he would reappear and whisper to her for hours on end until he fell asleep with his head resting beside her on the bed. A nurse would come in to check on Ziva at midnight and would shake him awake.

Every second of every day he wished that Ziva would wake up and his taxing routine would be broken but he wouldn't stop coming until she had walked out of those doors with him.

His mind went back to the first time he had passed under the sign above the hospital entrance running beside the stretcher with her bloody body on it, crying her name over and over again. Over the next few days the name had become a mantra, a prayer, a word of hope poking through the expanse of despair surrounding her motionless body.

He told himself that she wasn't dead and he should be grateful for that mercy. There was a chance that she would wake up and laugh again which wouldn't have been there if she had died already. However, Tony was not naïve enough to believe that she would wake up. Once someone has been in a deep coma for over a year, it is so unlikely that they will wake that it is almost impossible. Ziva was stubborn and amazing but even Tony did not have enough faith in her to expect her to rouse herself.

Perhaps she was better numb to the world and all its pain, Tony sometimes thought. She had led a terribly painful life and at least she was freed from that agony. This soothed him until he had asked a doctor in passing whether she was feeling anything in her comatose state. He had innocently replied that it was possible to be living a nightmare behind the still, closed eyelids although it would have to be a terrifying memory to pierce through the cloud of nothingness to attack her subconscious. Tony's heart had been plunged into a fog of depression again at this devastating.

Now, every time he looked at her, he wondered what was playing in her head. Every kill she had ever made? Pulling the trigger and sending the fatal bullet into her brother's head replaying incessantly? Watching her sister's body explode and be instantly incinerated with her standing watching helpless to save her? Reconciling herself to death in Somalia? There were too many options to choose from and Tony tortured himself daily running through the possible painful moments she could be reliving for eternity.

She had named him as her next of kin. The doctor asked him regularly every month whether he wanted to pull the plug on her. He contemplated this agonisingly every time but each time he declined. He had the faintest shred of trust in Ziva's obstinacy and he clung to the possibility of her waking up whenever he thought of ending it permanently. If she was preparing to wake and he ended it, he would have killed her. That idea seared through his heart and stopped him accepting the well meaning offer.

Her eyes held secrets which would never be revealed. Her mouth was choking back unsaid words. Her hands were restrained from holding him back when he hugged her in greeting and in parting every visit. Her nose could not pick up on the different aftershaves he was trying out. Her ears could never hear the words he whispered in them.

It had been a year and he had never voiced the feeling which was eating him from the inside out. It had been gnawing at him since he met her but the teeth had grown and sharpened and every bite sent a shot of excruciating misery through him. He longed with every cell in his exhausted body to be able to slip the three words that had eluded him all his life into his frequent whispers but so far he had not been able to.

He left every day at eight in the morning so that he could be in work on time. He hoped that she would be proud of his willpower in getting up so early daily. His Italian shoes clicked on the polished floor as he disappeared down the too familiar corridor. Suddenly, he was consumed by an urge to shout his declaration to the world. Holding this impulse in, he ran back through the white hallway and skidded into her room. He firmly pushed the nurse out of the door and bent over her lifeless body. 'I love you, Ziva,' he whispered honestly into her ear.

He pulled away and looked at her, his hand clasping hers. Some romantic part of him had been expecting her eyes to flutter open and him to feel her squeeze his hand. If it had been a film that is what would have happened but life wasn't a film, as she had so often reminded him, so nothing like that happened. She just continued to stare at the blackness of her closed eyelids and remained still and silent. Although whether she was calm and quiet in her head was unknown to anybody but her.

Her wild hair fanned out on the pillow, the dark mane contrasting with the pure white cotton of the pillowcase. Her body was unmoving and relaxed; a position she had never taken in consciousness. She hardly looked like Ziva when all the life had been sucked out of her.

Never again would she reflexively go for her gun. Never again would she aim her knife and wow every one with her superior prowess. Never again would she duck and dodge a rain of blows while delivering powerful strikes to her opponent. Never again would she take a life because she did not have one herself.

She was in a timeless state of limbo. She did not feel her life slip away through her fingers. She aged but she could not feel the wrinkles appear on her frozen brow. Opportunities fell away but she would never even know they existed. She could have touched so many people's lives and saved so many lost souls but no one would ever know her capabilities now.

The chance was gone and he had wasted their time together. So many moments flashed passed his eyes, moments when it would have been fitting to tell her how he felt but he declined to do so and let them continue on unsatisfied. It was too late now. She could not hear him.


	2. I Need You

**My social life is totally suffering for this so you better all be grateful. Humph. A review would help...**

His words haunted him throughout the monotonous day at work. His mind refused to focus and his hands were trembling as he tried to write his report. He kept hurrying off to the bathroom and staring into the mirror, waiting for her to appear behind him just as she had done when she needed to talk to him urgently before. He longed to be able to talk to her and have her reply.

McGee noticed that something was wrong with Tony, even more than usual, and wondered how to approach him. Tony rarely joked or laughed any more and the sparkle had gone from his eyes. He ignored the women who added a bounce to their walk or a smile to their face in a futile attempt to get his attention. Tony had only eyes for one person; the one person that could not see him back.

When Tony slipped out from behind his desk and headed off to the bathroom for the sixth time that morning, McGee excused himself and followed him. He pushed open the orange door and saw Tony staring blankly into the mirror. A year ago McGee would have assumed that he was congratulating himself on his handsome face but Tony had changed unrecognisably in the past year and, although it would cut deeply into him, it would not warrant a response.

'Tony,' McGee broached the boundary which had been silently erected by Tony. They only spoke when it was absolutely crucial to the case and never saw each other once they left the building at the end of the day. McGee even tailored his visits to the hospital to avoid Tony. 'Are you ok?' he asked softly, joining him in front of the mirror.

Tony turned to him and frowned, his eyes not registering McGee's concern. He shrugged and turned back to his reflection. McGee wasn't the one who was supposed to come in; Ziva should have opened the door. When he had heard the creak of the hinges, he had allowed himself a moment of anticipation and had believed that Ziva would enter and act as if nothing had happened.

McGee sighed but nodded and left Tony to his depression. Tony watched the door close in the mirror before his head sank into his hands on the counter and he wept. Wept for Ziva's lost life, wept for his incurable loneliness, and wept for his own selfishness in not giving Ziva a happy conscious life. She had been consumed by emptiness without knowing how Tony felt about her and now she would never know. He had forced her to live out her life in the black void in painful ignorance.

Ziva did not deserve him but she had still wanted him and he had denied her the one desire she had allowed herself. He should have been the one to be plunged into blackness instead of her. He choked on his sobs and sank to the floor, his fists pounding relentlessly on the unforgiving tiles.

Gibbs hesitated outside the bathroom door, listening to Tony's grief unleashing itself on him. For once in his life, the omnipotent Gibbs was powerless to help his depressed agent. Both of them blamed themselves for Ziva's coma and neither had ever come to terms with Ziva's helplessness. But, however much Gibbs was grieving and mourning; Tony had been affected the most. He was not even a shadow of his former self; he was barely even related to the cheeky Tony DiNozzo that had once worked for Gibbs so diligently, teased McGee and laughed with Ziva. He did none of those things now except laugh softly in Ziva's ear at a memory of the two together. His life revolved around the limp body of Ziva.

Gibbs left Tony to his fury and hoped that any other agents would hear and avoid that bathroom. He drove erratically to the hospital and charged along the corridors before tiptoeing respectfully into Ziva's room. He took her hand in his and squeezed it, praying to feel a response. He knew that it was unhealthy to keep holding onto his faith in her recovery but he couldn't help it. She was Ziva and Ziva was a born fighter. She would die fighting as well; she could never just slip away.

He had left the door open and he sensed someone behind him. Ziva's doctor was lingering in the doorway. Gibbs turned around and glared at him. The doctor opened his mouth to say something but instead gave a faltering smile and hurried off. Gibbs sighed. The doctor had no idea how lucky he was that Ziva was not conscious because by now she would so bored with lying in a hospital bed that she would have snapped his head right off his body.

Gibbs fingered Ziva's palm. She would not be able to harm anyone with these frail hands, he noted sadly. Ziva would have hated seeing herself like this. His heart was breaking inside him as he stared down at Ziva's static face. Tears began to slip silently down his cheeks.

'Gibbs,' Abby cried softly behind him. He didn't turn to look at her but wiped the streaks off his face.

'Abby,' he acknowledged gruffly.

Abby joined him beside the bed. Her eyes had welled up and her mascara had already been smudged down to her jaw within five seconds of seeing Ziva in the bed. 'She looks so helpless,' she whispered.

Gibbs didn't know how to respond to this. If he protested, he would be lying to her, but if he agreed, Abby would break down and Gibbs was in no fit state to comfort her.

Abby bit her lip. She could see that Gibbs was struggling to control his misery and her unleashing the full force of her sadness would not help him so she choked back her sobs and sat very still.

They sat in silence for what could easily have been hours, just being in the room with Ziva comforting their shattered hearts. No words could express their despair and no actions would be able to console the other's dejection.

Abby had lost all her positivity over the year. She had always managed to remain bouncy even in the darkest of times but her pessimism had overridden all her default moods. Her music was no longer angry and loud but soft and mournful, wails of woe instead of shouts of torment. Her eyes were ringed with evidence of her wide awake nights and drinking. Her voice had no character but was suppressed with reverence. Her body did not skip around and was not invigorated by the constant caffeine but she trudged around listlessly, the caffeine only serving to deepen her depression.

The pair stared at Ziva with whirling thoughts until Tony appeared for his nightly discussion. Gibbs stood up and pulled Abby with him, noting the purple bruises on Tony's fists.

Tony took up his customary place, wondering why Gibbs and Abby had left so suddenly. He was glad that they had for he needed to be alone with his one love but he hadn't changed so much that he was selfish. He understood that other people were mourning Ziva's state as well as him. Ziva was well loved at NCIS and had started off with a room full of flowers and chocolates. However, the flowers had wilted and died and the chocolates had gradually been eaten by her decreasing stream of visitors. Once people realised that she would probably not be waking up to thank them for their generosity they stopped coming. Eli had never come. Neither had Ray.

Tony dismissed all thoughts of the hypocrites who had abandoned Ziva and leant over to kiss her forehead. 'I miss you, Ziva,' he murmured. 'Come back to save me.' He pulled away and wiped away the tears that were falling onto her cheeks. 'Save me, Ziva,' he pleaded. 'I need you.'

He bent over once more and kissed her lips for the first time. They were dry and unresponsive but she still tasted as she had done all those years ago undercover. Her vitality was what had made her Ziva and had forced people to have fun with her. Even in a tranquil endless slumber, she still had the ability to give him a boundless joy.

He kissed her again, praying for her to push back. Shouldn't the touch of her one true love pull her out of her depths? Shouldn't he be enough? He felt terribly inadequate.

'Wake up, Ziva,' he pleaded. 'I really need you.'

He stroked her hair. _'I was just going to tousle your hair. Sometimes it makes you laugh.' _His own words came back to him with a force. He yearned for her to laugh right now.

She would wake up. Of course she would. Wouldn't she?

**Do I wake Ziva up or not?**


	3. I Beg You

**I keep listening to two depressing songs over and over (the ones that Tony, Remember Me is based on) to get me into a mournful mindset which is not doing much for my mood but the reviews I am getting make it worthwhile so Thank You!**

It was getting too painful to keep expecting Ziva to wake up at a pivotal moment in their one sided "relationship." He needed to resign himself to the fact that she was never going to reciprocate his words and kiss.

He desperately wanted to leave her and go home to mope and cry alone but he knew that once he stopped his visiting routine he might just stop visiting altogether which would not be fair to Ziva. She was trapped in her own head and in this bed and could not just leave when it got too painful to be here. He had to stay stubborn just like she had always been. It was the least she deserved. He had never made her life special but he could make her semi-life precious. She was worth the pain.

The nurse came in that night expecting to see Tony sleeping in the chair with his weary head resting on her bed but found him wide awake and still staring at Ziva's closed eyes. The nurse had never seen Ziva's eyes open but had a gnawing curiosity about them since all her visitors seemed to be fascinated by them. 'Tony,' he urged. 'Go home.'

He looked up at her with vacant eyes. 'I can't,' was his simple reply.

'What do you mean?' she asked, used to a quiet thank you before he kissed the patient's forehead and left.

'I can't leave her tonight,' he explained. 'Just tonight,' he pleaded. She nodded and allowed him to stay, closing the door quietly behind her.

He did not sleep that night but continued to stare at her, mesmerised by the lifeless individual who had always been by his side until a year ago.

His mind kept flashing back to the night they rushed her in here. He could not remember much before emerging from the ambulance, running beside the gurney. He hated the sight of them at work now and tried to avoid being around when Palmer retrieved the gurney from the back of the van. He would see Ziva's face unconscious instead of the dead body Palmer was shifting. Her face had been covered in blood and her eyes were closed, hiding the fright which would inevitably have been filling those chocolate brown orbs. He longed to see them again in person; he had been staring mindlessly into pictures of close ups of her face but he had always managed to catch her unawares so they were always widened in shock. He had been left behind in the waiting area while they pushed her into the operating theatre, wondering if she would ever come out alive.

For two weeks he had bluntly refused to leave the hospital. McGee brought him updates on the case looking into the bastards who had knocked Ziva out indefinitely and inflicted this interminable pain on him. They had caught them eventually but Tony had not left the waiting room to bash their faces in; he had left the physical harming to Gibbs and, surprisingly, McGee. McGee had been standing outside the building when it had exploded into flames and he was plagued with nightmares of the fear that surged in him as the building disintegrated in front of him with Tony and Ziva trapped inside.

He had ingrained the faces of the rest of the team as they dashed into the waiting room to join him once they heard about Ziva into his memory. Abby's had been of utter terror, her pigtails flying around her face as she ran hysterically around the room trying to focus her panicked eyes enough to locate Tony to interrogate him on Ziva's condition. Gibbs was traipsing slowly towards him, a walk of a guilty man buried under the immensity of his unsolvable mistake. His mouth set in a thin line, his head bowed and his arms trembling as they hung limply by his sides. Ducky's eyes were wide and his mouth was running away with him, stories tumbling out randomly and uncontrollably. Palmer had slunk in behind Ducky and hidden in the corner, afraid to include himself in the team's communal anxiety. Tony had managed to summon up enough compassion to invite him over, aware of how welcoming Palmer had been to Ziva and how friendly Ziva had been in return. McGee was shaking with sobs and clinging to Abby like a barnacle to a rock or a sloth to a tree. They were all there for Ziva: terrified, grieving, hoping, disintegrating.

Ziva. She was the reason they were all congregated in a huddle in a hospital waiting room.

Ziva. She was the deadly assassin who had wormed her way into their hearts despite the obstacles circumstances had thrown their way.

Ziva. She was the only one who could be so effortlessly emotionless and endearingly vulnerable simultaneously.

Ziva. She was the cruelly beautiful individual who had argued and flirted with him, switching between the two without him noticing.

Ziva. She was the enemy who had won Gibbs's trust.

Ziva. She was the murderer's sister who had helped him over his grief for her predecessor.

Ziva. She was the friend McGee needed to grow into a fully fledged, competent agent.

Ziva. She was the character who penetrated Abby's obstinate hatred and endured the constant, detested hugs.

Ziva. She was the entity who flew Tony across the Atlantic to Africa to avenge her death.

Ziva. She was the woman who had captured his heart and stayed with him even in her absence.

Ziva. He loved her. And, maybe, one day, she would tell him that she loved him too.

Ziva was missing and, without her, he would never be complete. She had to wake up. Or he could not go on. She was a vital part of him. He needed her.

Tony choked back a scream and let the tears flow onto her. In Harry Potter, tears had saved Harry. Tony smiled weakly as he heard Ziva's voice in his head. 'Do you never have any original ideas, Tony, or do they all come from films?' He had never listened to her. Now, against his will, he was forced to. His tears were not going to bring her back. Life was not a film. Unfortunately.

'Wake up, Ziva,' Tony whispered, kissing her damp hand.

'Wake up, Ziva,' McGee prayed, kneeling by his bed.

'Wake up, Ziva,' Gibbs ordered, sanding his boat roughly.

'Wake up, Ziva,' Abby cried through her sobs.

'Wake up, Ziva,' Ducky begged, laying flowers by his mother's grave.

'Wake up, Ziva,' Palmer announced, flicking the light switches off in Autopsy.

'Wake up, Ziva,' Eli muttered to himself, alone in his dim office.


	4. I See You

**Something happens in this chapter – she either wakes up or dies – you'll have to read it to find out.**

The curtains were drawn and the room was dim, his puffy eyes only just managing to see Ziva's silhouette lying powerless on the bed which had been her home for the last year.

He sat up and stretched, his eyes never leaving the blurry shape visible in the dark. He got up and made his way through the empty room to feel his way to the light switch. He bumped his shin on the metal post of her hospital issue bed but other than that, the route was clearly etched in his mind and there were no other obstacles. Gibbs had sold her apartment and used the money to pay for a private room for her. Her personal belongings had been moved into storage and her weapons sent to Israel at her father's request.

The bulb flickered and burst into life; Ziva's face lighting up like a glowing orb floating in a sky of clear white. He returned to her side and took her hand up. He resumed his study of her placid face and bit his lip to stop himself from shedding more tears and getting her dry sheets damp again. She had always stopped herself from showing her true emotion and he aspired to be more like her. The world deserved a strong, independent Ziva David more than a weak, emotional Anthony DiNozzo.

He frowned. He had memorised her static expression and prayed every day that it would have altered since he last came but his prayers were never answered. Now, perhaps, they had been. Her jaw was almost unnoticeably clenched than it had been the night before and her nostrils had flared slightly. 'I see you, Ziva,' he assured her. He let out a shaky breath and stood up, his mouth open to call for a nurse.

His cry was stemmed, though, before it had even formed, as the unthinkable happened. Ziva's hand clutched at the sheets and her legs kicked out in agony. Her eyes shot open but instead of the happiness and surprise he had been imagining throughout the year, they were filled with fear and pain. Her mouth opened and she screamed; a chilling shriek which seared through his heart and pierced into his bones. The cry was unintelligible but as it continued, Tony could make out the name she was calling, begging.

'Ari! Ari!' she screeched hysterically.

'Ziva, its ok,' Tony soothed, his mind numb from astonishment and fright.

Her limbs were thrashing and her mouth was frothing. Tony began to shout out for help and nurses streamed into the room, immediately rushing to her side and trying to restrain her. Her fist lashed out and caught a doctor in the mouth, blood pouring onto her previously pristine sheets. Her legs were flying through the air, her sheets flung to the floor, dangerously close to the nurses' faces. A doctor pushed roughly past Tony and his experienced, trained eyes dilated in terror at Ziva's contortions. He placed a cold hand on her forehead but pulled it away sharply as her head shook violently.

'Sedate her,' the doctor yelled above the chaos.

A syringe appeared and was handed hastily to him, fear filling the nurses' faces. Tony flinched and screamed, feeling Ziva's pain, as the sharp needle sliced into Ziva's unblemished skin. Her flailing legs fall like dead weights to the bed, bouncing as they landed heavily. Her arms came crashing down, her right hand punching her face as it fell.

Once more, Ziva was still and lifeless while the room around her was flourishing with activity. The doctor was pressing a handkerchief to his streaming nose while mumbling commands. The nurses bustled around her like hens, clucking as they prodded machines and read pieces of paper covered in numbers and lines. Tony stood helpless in the corner, whimpering and staring uncomprehendingly at Ziva's limp face coated with a glistening layer of perspiration.

One by one, the nurses put down their sheets of paper and left, going off to tend to other patients who, presumably, would not attack them after a year of lying there peacefully immobile. The doctor remained with Ziva and Tony, still clutching his damaged nose.

Tony regained his senses, furious that Ziva's awakening had been so short lived. 'Was that really necessary?' he shouted.

The doctor turned. 'She was dangerous,' he explained slowly. 'She was having a seizure which turned violent.' He paused, noticing the murderous look on Tony's red face. 'We tried to restrain her,' he defended himself. He consulted another chart. 'We just have to wait and see if she wakes up again,' he replied to Tony's unasked question without daring to look up and meet Tony's ferocious glare.

Tony wilted, his energy drained by the ordeal. He sank to the floor and stuck his head between his knees, his body shaking as he sobbed. The doctor smiled sympathetically and left Tony alone with his newly unconscious love.

Gibbs did not begin to worry about Tony until he was an hour late to work. 'Call him,' he ordered McGee gruffly.

McGee obeyed instantly and waited patiently for Tony to pick up.

Tony's hysteria was interrupted by a tinny ringing accompanied by a vibrating in his pocket. He delved in and sifted through the half chewed gum and pointless small change to find his phone. He flipped it open, groaning despite his misery as he saw the Caller ID. 'McGee,' he whispered.

'Tony,' McGee greeted before the trembling in Tony's voice registered. 'What's wrong?' he asked urgently. 'What's happened?'

'McGee,' Tony started, unsure how to voice the events of the morning. 'Ziva woke up…' He was interrupted by a joyous shriek from the other end. 'McGee,' his voice regained its old force. 'McGee,' he repeated, determined to get the younger man's attention back. 'McGee, she isn't anymore.'

The whoops of happiness were instantly silenced. 'What?' he breathed.

'They sedated her,' he explained bluntly. 'She had a fit.' He gave a short, gruff laugh. 'She kicked the doctor in the face.'

'Sounds like Ziva,' McGee remarked, somewhat cheerfully. 'When will she wake up again?' he inquired nervously. If the answer was soon, he was unsure how to react. Should Tony be alone with her or should they all be there? Tony was the most affected by her vegetative state but they had all been her best friends. He waited with bated breath for Tony's reply. When none came, he tried again. 'Tony?' he prompted.

'McGee, I don't know. They don't even know if she will,' was the delayed response followed by a drone as Tony hung up. McGee stared at the phone in horror.

'Uh, Boss,' he ventured, wondering how to phrase what Tony had told him.


	5. I Trust You

Tony shut his eyes and single tears squeezed through and slipped slowly down his cheek, mocking him for his weakness just like Ziva would have done. 'Mock me,' he begged. 'Tell me I'm a baby, please, Ziva, please.' His sobs increased and his shoulders began to shake violently.

It had been bad enough when he had been ignorant of what she was thinking behind the closed eyes but... He slumped forward, his head resting on her chest. He could not get the fear in her eyes out his head. She had been living in a nightmare for the past year, reliving all her horrific, traumatic moments repeatedly. She shouldn't even have had to deal with them once but now all her nightmare were on a constant loop.

He raised his head and patted her hand soothingly, desperate for her to react. She didn't. He drew the curtain of untamed curls off her face, wanting to see her eyes open. They didn't. He kissed her, waiting for her lips to part and her to press back with all her might. He didn't feel a thing.

He closed his eyes and his chest constricted. He was undecided about his current feelings. Nothing had happened for a year and then suddenly everything had progressed too fast to process and he was still reeling from the shock.

He sighed, halfheartedly fighting the tears. He had been waiting for a year. She had finally granted his one burning wish before stealing it right back. His heart was still pounding from the terror of her writhing and lashing out, in obvious agony both physical and mental. He had been allowed one golden moment of bliss before his was flung back into the pit with the ghastly monsters. Perhaps it was time to hoping. Perhaps Ziva had said her goodbyes in her own messed up, violent way. Perhaps he should give up on her.

McGee studied Gibbs's reaction carefully. His cold grey eyes flickered with sadness before resuming their steely finish. He sighed and slammed his fist on the table. 'Damn doctors,' he shouted, making people all around them jump to their feet, guns poised, searching for the intruder. McGee grimaced apologetically at them, preferring to distract himself with politeness rather than the grim alternative of dwelling on the new situation.

'Gibbs,' he began.

'No, McGee,' Gibbs refused to be calmed down. 'They shut her down again.' He yanked open his desk drawer and shoved his gun into its holster, striding purposefully towards the elevator with McGee trotting behind.

'Uh, Boss,' McGee ventured. 'Where are we going?'

'We're going down there and showing them that Ziva isn't the only one who can attack them,' Gibbs explained coldly.

McGee flinched. 'You aren't going to kill them, are you?'

Gibbs turned to him angrily, flicking the emergency stop switch. 'No, McGee.' He fixed McGee with a condescending glare. 'We are.' The elevator rumbled to life again as Gibbs turned away. 'Or don't you care about Ziva?'

McGee's eyes widened in anger at the insinuation. 'I care, Gibbs!' he shouted, his voice echoing against the metal walls that trapped him. 'Of course I care! Don't you dare suggest that I don't, Gibbs!' His voice dropped to a whisper. 'I miss her so much, Gibbs.'

Gibbs smiled apologetically and nodded soothingly. 'I know, McGee,' he replied softly, stepping out into the foyer. 'Come on,' he beckoned to McGee who was standing staring at him speechlessly.

Gibbs driving was worse than usual and McGee was clutching the edges of seat to prevent himself flying through the window as Gibbs sped around slow moving cars, skipped through red lights, flew over speed bumps and ignored the beeping horns that followed him. McGee tumbled out of the car when the car skidded to a sudden halt in the hospital car park which had become as familiar as the NCIS car park.

McGee's frightened expression morphed into sympathy when he saw Tony's gaunt face pressed against Ziva's. 'Tony,' he murmured softly to himself. Gibbs glanced at the younger agent, considering the changes which had forced themselves McGee since he was thrust into the position of Senior Field Agent after Tony had requested a demotion to allow him more free time to spend with Ziva. McGee had grown into a capable agent and a caring friend who knew when to step back and leave Tony to cry. Gibbs was proud of McGee and appreciated the small gestures McGee offered to keep Gibbs as unstressed as possible. He needed the support because, whatever he told the rest of world, he was falling apart inside. Everyone was.

'Call Abby,' Gibbs ordered quietly, leaving McGee's side to join Tony in Ziva's room. McGee understood immediately and pressed up against the wall outside, giving Gibbs some time alone with Tony.

Gibbs placed a fatherly hand on Tony's shoulder and smiled down as Tony glanced up, seeking reassurance from his mentor. Gibbs took a seat next to Tony and patted Ziva's hand. He noted the stricken horror in Tony's green eyes. He could not imagine how dreadful it must have been to fill the surge of relief as Ziva emerged from her year long sleep only for her to demonstrate the torment she was experiencing. Tony could no longer pretend to himself that Ziva was happy in her coma. He knew the terrible truth now and hiding from it was not an option.

McGee's arm dropped limply to his side. He hated hanging up on Abby but she was going to make him cry with her deafening wailing and McGee could see that Tony would not be helped by a weeping McGee.

Tony was grateful for the company and gave McGee a weak smile to express his gratitude as his friend slunk in as inconspicuously as he could manage. Being alone with Ziva was torture and he did not know how much longer he could have endured it. They sat around Ziva, staring at her, afraid to blink and miss a movement. The only sound in the room was their laboured breathing until a rush of clicking heels and hysterical, incoherent cries became audible.

Abby hurried into the room and grabbed Gibbs arm to steady herself. 'How's Ziva? Has she woken up yet? Of course not, or you would be happy and you aren't. You look terrible. So does she. Oh, Ziva. Did the doctor say anything? How's Tony? Will she wake up again soon? Will she ever wake up again? Oh, Gibbs! I'm so scared, Gibbs!' She paused to gulp in some much needed air and looked up at Gibbs with doleful, pleading eyes. 'Tell me its ok, Gibbs,' she demanded quietly. 'Tell me.'

Gibbs maneuvered her firmly out of the room. 'Calm down, Abby,' he ordered. 'We don't know if she will wake up again but you have to keep it together.' She shook her head and burst into tears. 'For Tony,' he whispered in her ear, pulling her into his body and wrapping his arms around her. He felt her nod against his chest and he hugged her tighter, comforting himself as much as her.

McGee kept glancing up at Tony worriedly. 'She will wake up,' he stated flatly. 'She has to.' He paused and bit his lip. 'Now that she has woken up once she's more likely…' He could not bring himself to finish the sentence for fear of jinxing Ziva. He was not superstitious but Ziva needed all the help she could get and he had been spending a lot of time with Abby. His eyes fixed on Tony.

Tony looked up and returned his gaze. 'I don't know, McGee.' His voice broke. 'You didn't see her...' The rest of the sentence was drowned out by the sobs that ensued. 'I'm here, Ziva,' he pushed out, suppressing his wails momentarily, desperate to reassure himself. 'I'll always be here.'

The nurse arrived at midnight and found a group of five keeping vigil around her bed. She smiled at Tony and introduced herself politely to the rest, the social formalities seeming out of place. They each kissed Ziva's cheek and patted her arm gently before leaving in a tightly knit cluster. Only Tony remained.

Ducky lit a candle by his bed, praying for Ziva fervently. He couldn't do another autopsy on a friend. Not again.

Gibbs lit a candle and placed it under his flammable boat, hoping that it wouldn't catch fire but finding that he would not be too bothered if he did come down in the morning to find that the basement was a raging furnace. It would be fitting for a monument for Ziva to expand and destroy everything in its path.

McGee fingered his typewriter, watching the flickering reflection of the flame of the candle he had lit for Ziva in the polished black metal. He pressed down on a few keys listlessly before tearing out the page and sticking a new one in, purposeful in his newly found task. He typed relentlessly by candle light until a pool of molten wax and formed on his neurotically flawless desk. He stared blindly at the mess, chewing on his lip, before ignoring it and continuing to type in the dark, his fingers knowing instinctively where to press and his mind working unthinkingly. By the morning, pages of prose describing Ziva - not Officer Lisa – were strewn around him, every word weighty in its meaning.

Abby stared at her shrine, stroking the photos surrounding the lighted candles in the centre. She had always been very religious and her faith had not waned. She squeezed her eyes tightly and prayed, her body trembling with the exertion she put into her appeal. If something happened to Ziva, Abby was not quite sure what she would do. First Kate died and left forever, then Gibbs was in a brief coma before abandoning them by retiring, then Tony was thought to have died, then McGee got trapped in a prison with murderous women, and now Ziva was locked inside her own torturous mind indefinitely. It was too much for her and she clenched her fists, willing herself not to lose her temper. She failed and, carefully avoiding her altar, she stormed around her bedroom throwing her belongings to the ground, the glass in photo frames smashing and being crushed under foot. One group of pictures, previously prominent on her desk, caught her attention; one was of Kate; the second of her with her nun bowling companions, with whom she had not gone out with for months, citing personal issues which she had to deal before rejoining, now maybe that day would never come; and the final one of the whole team together, Ziva stretching up to whisper something in Tony's ear. They looked so contented and...whole. Abby swore to herself that if Ziva did not wake up she would not be a part of the team either. She sank to the floor and wept, staring through the veil of tears at the one splinter of hope she had left: the glowing flame of the candle.

Tony rested his head on Ziva's chest, listening to the faint heartbeat reminding him that she was not completely gone. As long as there was a steady thumping in her chest, there was hope. And when that pounding ceased... Tony could not bring himself to think of that possibility. It would be too much. He had been waiting for a year, grasping to faith and trusting her to call upon her iron resolve. If she gave up now, after spending so much time with her, expecting every second to hear her voice rasping out his name, he would have no option but to give up too. Like Romeo and Juliet, they would be together forever but that was only possible once she had escaped her personal purgatory. His belief in her will to live had not been completely extinguished though, and a flame still smouldered in his heart. His eyes rose and settled on the Jewish candle on her bedside table. She had held onto her faith in a God throughout her horrific ordeals and he had to take a leaf out of her book. He would not give up on her until she had given up on herself. 'I'm here, Ziva,' he reminded her. 'I'll always be here.'


	6. I Miss You

Tony's phone woke him up with a start the next morning. Groggily, he fumbled around for it and flipped it open, almost dropping it.

'Tony,' Gibbs voice grunted down the line. 'Are you coming in or not?'

Tony winced at the loud voice booming in his ear. 'Coming,' he rasped, hanging up. He kissed Ziva's forehead, squeezed her hand one last time before slipping out through the door.

The room was quiet for the next hour, the curtains blowing slightly in the breeze floating in through the open window and the flowers rustled gently in their glass vase. A soft moan came from the bed and Ziva's eyes gradually opened. Her head was throbbing and her body was frozen but she was aware of her surroundings. With immense difficulty, she raised her head a few inches off her pillow and glanced around the room, groaning at the sheer pain in this tiny movement.

She frowned slightly at the empty room, her mind cloudy. Where was she? She tried to clear the fog shrouding her thoughts. The room could easily be anywhere; her childhood bedroom, any one of a number of Mossad safe houses, her friends' houses, or her own apartment. She had lived in so many different places that it was hard to pinpoint one. She turned her head to the side and gasped as she noticed the tubes and drips emerging from her face. She was in a hospital. She smiled in triumph. The room was empty though. Where were all her friends, her family, her co-workers?

She let out a shaky breath and her eyes shut tightly as a scene replayed in her mind. She was in a doorway, looking down into a dimly lit basement carpeted with a thin layer of sawdust. A grey haired man was edging away from a younger, gaunt man; her loyal, skilled, dependable half brother, Ari. Ari had a rifle and was pointing it at the hapless old man who had sat down in surrender. Ziva looked down at her hand; she was holding a gun, her favourite model for it was simple but effective and instantly deadly without any pointless functions. Ari raised the rifle until the butt was pointed directly at the helpless man's head. Ziva knew what she had to do. She raised her arm. The gun was aimed and the trigger was fired. Such a simple action with such deadly effectiveness. He was dead before he was halfway to the floor, his blood seeping into the sawdust. She walked slowly down the stairs, contemplating her actions. With each step towards her brother the pain increased exponentially until, when she standing directly above his cold eyes, her heart was breaking. The other man, the one standing upright in front of her, his shocked, sympathetic eyes clearly indicating that he was still alive, while her loving brother lay dead on the floor, his hair stained with his own blood.

Her eyes snapped open, her tears soaked with tears. Fuzzy images swam through her head. Pictures of a handsome chiselled man laughing and hugging her, a huggable kindly man talking seriously to her, a giggling girl squeezing her tightly until all the breath had been expelled from her lungs, and the man from the basement staring down at her both coldly and lovingly simultaneously: her newest family. So, where were they?

Groaning, she pushed herself upright and leaned back, grunting and panting, on her headboard. The room was indeed, empty. With trembling fingers, she pulled the tubes off her face and pushed the covers off her body and onto the floor. Her legs were numb and felt as heavy as lead but she could wiggle her toes. The details of her situation remained unclear but she disregarded her ignorance and slowly shifted her legs off the bed, touching the floor. She felt too weak and dizzy to actually stand up and her body was screaming at her to stop moving and lie back down. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and pushed off the bed. She collapsed onto the floor with a thud with reverberated through her bones. Shuddering from the force of the impact, she slid herself under the bed, her weak hands clutching her blankets and pulling them under with her. All her instincts were telling her to hide comfortably until she ascertained the situation. She could be being held hostage for all she knew, or undercover. There was a faint nagging at the very back of her mind which was murmuring something incoherent about leaving Mossad but she was too preoccupied with her shivering body to pay any attention to it.

The white sheets hanging over the side of the bed hid her completely from view and shut most of the light out of her hiding place. She felt safe in the dark and decided to stay there until she was positive that she was safe. Her head was leaden and she rested it on the dusty floor, closing her droopy eyes. Soon, she was fast asleep, exhausted from the exertion. Any normal coma patient would be bedridden for days before they would be able to flop out of bed but Ziva had a steely resolve and refused to jeopardise any mission, even when she wasn't quite sure if she was actually on one. Her ears were deaf to the sounds other than the whistle of a bullet streaking through the air. Which of the hundreds of bullets she had shot in her lifetime she was hearing was unclear but it was ingrained firmly in her subconscious. Her arms lay motionless by her side and her legs were curled up to her chest. To all extents and purposes she was closed off to the world once again and she certainly looked dead at first glance.

Tony inched through the lunchtime traffic, his hand thumping impatiently on his steering wheel. His hair was matted and unwashed and his shirt was creased from lack of ironing. All spare time was spent with Ziva.

He parked his car wonkily and hurried through the startlingly white corridors. He opened the door to Ziva's bedroom carefully, glancing backwards to check for any nurses approaching. In his sweaty palm he was clutching a knife. He had retrieved it from the box filled to the brim with some of Ziva's things that he could not bring himself to lock away in a cobwebby storage locker in the countryside. He hoped that Ziva would remember the feel of her favourite weapon. It was a long shot but he was willing to try anything.

He was halfway across her room when he realised that her bed was empty. His first rejoicing thought was that she had woken up but then his eyes focused on the stripped bed. He thought back to the third night of Ziva's coma when the doctor was explaining procedures. They never moved coma patients to another room until at least a month after their awakening. He forced his mind to remain logical to try to come up with a possible explanation other than the obvious. Ziva couldn't have died. She wouldn't have died. Not without him there. She hadn't died. Had she?

His breathing quickened and his body shook uncontrollably. There was no other explanation which presented itself. Sobs overwhelmed him and he clutched his head, tearing at his hair. He pressed himself into the wall and bit down on his tongue, ignoring the metallic taste of blood which filled his mouth and spilled down his chin. He toppled over sideways and curled up on the floor. The knife was discarded on the floor beside him. Ziva would not be needing it anymore.

His chest heaving and his tears spilling out of his eyes like water spurting from a dam, he crawled across the floor towards the bed. He wanted only to hide himself from the world and weep on his own. He lifted up the sheet and slid under the bed.

He pressed himself up against the other person under there and wrapped his arms around her warm body, crying into her hospital gown. Still bawling, he sniffed her hair, relishing the familiar smell. She turned over in her sleep, her bones aching from the exertion and shifted closer to him. He ran his hands through her wild, tangled hair. He had done this before many times, he noted casually. A pool of salty tears had formed on the dusty floor. He pulled her closer, feeling her weak heartbeat against his own shaking chest.

'I lost you, Ziva,' he murmured. 'I let you go.'

One eye opened and she struggled to focus on the blurry figure hugging her to him.

'I'll never forget you, Ziva,' he promised. 'You've gone but you'll never leave me.'

She squinted in the dim light, her heart thundering in her head.

'I'll miss you, Ziva,' he told her quietly. 'I'll miss you so much now that you've left me.'

Her mind tried to work this out. She felt secure in his strong arms and instantly recognised his loving embrace even if she could not see him clearly.

'Oh, Ziva,' he mourned softly. 'I lost you.'

She nestled into his neck. 'Tony,' she whispered, unsure where this name came from.

'Ziva,' he breathed into her mass of hair.


	7. I Hold You

Tony inhaled her familiar scent and a smiled placidly, content in his partner's arms. He blinked; something about that thought did not seem right. Frowning, he pulled her closer and tried to clear his grieving mind. He gently turned Ziva over and stared into her face, blinking to check that he was not dreaming. He wasn't and he really was holding Ziva in his arms. She wasn't dead. In fact, he realised, she had just spoken. She had said his name. She was awake!

He began to laugh and he hugged Ziva tightly to his heaving chest. Tears streamed down his cheeks but, for the first time in a year, there was no sadness fuelling his weeping but he was truly happy. He kissed her forehead and held her hands, feeling the warmth in them that told him that she was alive. She was awake!

He was paralysed in her arms. He had no desire to move and he wasn't sure if she physically could. He had to remember that she had only just woken and was not the Ziva who could cope with anything. He forced himself to free his arm and stick it out from under the bed, feeling for the call button. He found it but hesitated before pressing it. He smiled to himself and relished the last minute of this bliss before a nurse appeared and took it away, instead saving Ziva's fragile life. He nodded resolutely and pressed down, the act feeling as momentous as pressing the red button to detonate a bomb. He pulled his hand back under the sheets and held her once more, his nose pushed deep into the mass of curls surrounding her face. He could not wait to spread the good news. She was awake!

He heard footsteps enter the room and a cry of shock. He pushed his hand out again and waved it frantically. A moment later, a nurse had lifted the sheet and was kneeling on the floor, peering into their haven. The smile that filled her face at the sight of Ziva only lasted a second before it was replaced with a look of horror at the danger Ziva was in by not being hooked up to all the machines. However, that piece of negativity was not enough to dampen the glorious situation. She was awake!

The nurse called out for help and paged the doctor before hurrying over to the other side and gently pulling Ziva out from under the bed. Tony slid out after his partner and hoisted her into his strong arms, returning her to the bed. He stepped back and his spirits fell. She looked exactly as she had done for the past year: weak and powerless lying on the bed. But, this time there was one difference. She was not asleep and attached to machines keeping her alive. She was awake!

The doctor and nurses appeared and, much like the previous time Ziva had woken, Tony was pushed into the background. He watched with bated breath as they inserted tubes and consulted the readings. The doctor turned to him in what seemed like slow motion from one his movies. Tony's forehead creased with anticipation and dread as the doctor's mouth opened to convey the situation. All worry vanished, however, when the doctor smiled and nodded. Tony crumpled the floor in a moment of pure elation. He punched the floor in his excitement and he let a scream of joy escape his beaming mouth. She was awake!

Tony managed to collect himself enough to dial Gibbs's number and wait for him to answer, his body shaking in his uncontainable delight. Gibbs answered gruffly and Tony burst into tears. He struggled to force the words out. They were too momentous and carried such gravity that it seemed wrong to say it over the phone, even if it would have tortured Gibbs to keep the news from him for one more second. Tony focused his attention on the voice yelling down the phone, the tone full of concern and impatient worry. Tony shook his nerves off and stifled the steady stream of tears pouring down his cheeks. Gibbs deserved to know the astonishing development. She was awake!

'She's awake,' he screamed.

'She's awake?' Gibbs repeated, thrown by this change of attitude.

'She's awake,' Tony confirmed, laughing hysterically.

'Well, DiNozzo, why the hell didn't you just tell me?' Gibbs roared before his tone softened as he addressed McGee. 'She's awake, Ziva's awake,' he spread the news with an uncontrollable shout. She was awake!

Tony heard a faint whoop of joy from McGee and he laughed even harder. 'Come down,' he invited. 'She's sleeping but she'll be delighted to wake up again and see you.' He turned to look at her. The cloud of nurses had cleared and he rushed over to sit beside her and hold her hand, knowing that this time she could squeeze it back. 'She's awake,' he whispered, ignoring the earlier click as Gibbs hung up. He bent over to kiss her gently on the lips. He felt a slight push back and he realised that she was kissing him in return. He deepened the kiss and threaded his fingers into hers; their bodies connected more than they had ever been before. He pulled away to let her catch her breath, and caught a glimpse at her open eyes. They were filled with pleasure and contentment, a stark contrast to the anger and fear that had inhabited them the previous time she had woken up. The situation could not be more different this time. This time, she was properly awake. She was awake!


	8. I Fail You

McGee squealed with joy when he heard the news and immediately left to rush done to Abby.

Abby was slurping down her seventh Caf-Pow! of the day, and had mascara stained down both cheeks. She did not turn around to greet the rush of footsteps and instead hunched over more and hid her face from the visitor.

'Abby, Abby, Abby, Abby!' McGee yelled excitedly.

Abby froze, excited buy his happy voice but hardly daring to hope that…

'Ziva's woken up,' McGee yelped.

Abby's downturned mouth transformed into a huge beam and she leapt on McGee, squeezing his lungs until he began to rasp and choke, begging for mercy.

She dropped him and grabbed the remote for her CD player, switching the mood from mournful to an upbeat dance rhythm. 'Come on, Timmy,' she invited, swaying and jumping vaguely in time with the music. He reluctantly edged away from her, his grin not wavering. She held out her hands and put on her best pleading eyes. 'For Ziva,' she wheedled. He relented and was pulled into the lively dancing.

The song ended and Abby collapsed on the floor, her body unused to such glee after a year of misery and crying. McGee sat down beside and took her hand. 'She's awake,' he reminded her, squeezing her hand affectionately. She nodded, her grin not returning.

She turned to him, her eyes pensive. 'For real, Timmy?' she asked quietly. 'She won't fall back asleep?'

He threw his arms around her, comforting her. 'She has woken up for good, Abby,' he affirmed, ridding her of her last remaining anxiety. His eyes widened. 'Do you want to go and see her?' Her head nodded vigorously. He pulled her to her feet and they ran out of the lab, not bothering to stop the music or turn off any of the machines.

They hurried into the bullpen, searching for Gibbs. Abby stopped in front of his empty desk. 'He's gone without us,' she said simply. Her brow furrowed. 'How could he go without us?' she complained. McGee grabbed her hand once more and pulled her into the elevator.

'He will be waiting for us,' he assured her. She nodded, not letting anything spoil her blissful mood. 'She's awake,' he repeated, shaking his head in amazement. 'She's really awake.' He pulled Abby into an enveloping hug. 'She isn't going to die, Abby.'

Abby punched his arm. 'She was never going to die, McGee,' she scolded. 'She's Ziva. She can handle anything.' McGee smiled and pulled her closer, smelling her hair.

The elevator doors dinged and the pair dashed out, running towards McGee's car. Abby was stunned by the speed McGee drove at and spent most of the journey screaming and clutching her seat as they sped through traffic lights and darted around queues of cars. He had been infected by Abby's optimism over the years and he had hated seeing her depressed. He did not want to waste any time in proving to Abby that the world was the right way up again. He skidded to a halt in the car park and they rushed into the hospital faster, overtaking the paramedics running with a stretcher. They slowed down in the hospital corridors but they hurried towards Ziva's room as fast as was acceptable in a hospital.

Abby paused outside the door, her hand trembling on the handle. 'Go on,' McGee urged her. 'She'll want to see you.' Abby smiled and released the breath she had been holding, throwing open the door. Her face fell as she saw Ziva lying still in the bed with her eyes closed. Tony glanced up and he frowned when he saw the visitors. Abby's grin crumpled and spun round to confront McGee.

'You said that she was awake,' she accused. 'McGee!' she shouted, pushing past him. 'You lied!'

'Abby!' McGee called after her, scowling at Tony and running after her. 'Abby!'

Tony turned his attention back to Ziva's sleeping face. 'She is awake,' he assured himself. He felt slightly guilty at that lapse in accepting that Ziva had other friends who cared about her and would want to see her other than him which had misled Abby to thinking that Ziva had fallen back into a coma. But, his conscience was already weighing down on him and he dismissed the extra burden of guilt as Abby being overdramatic.

His eyes returned to Ziva. He had been able to tell her that he loved her when she could not respond but he wasn't sure if he could summon up the required courage to tell her when she could hear him. If he could not, they would fall back into their uncommunicative, self-destructive rut. He did not want that but neither did her want to pressure her into anything. He was modest but he knew Ziva too well to think that after a year of tending to her, she would not feel like she owed him again. If he told her that he loved her now, she would not be able to reject him even if she wanted to so he would never know whether she actually did love him or whether she felt obligated to reciprocate his feelings.

'Ziva,' he whispered. 'I accept you whatever you feel for me.'

'Thank you,' she murmured. He started, not having been aware that she had woken up.

'I'm so glad you're awake,' he replied softly.

She sighed. 'Me too.' Her face relaxed and she fell asleep again. She had not remained awake for more than twenty seconds, her immediate spurt having thoroughly worn her out. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the warm skin.

McGee rounded the corner to see Abby disappear into the women's bathroom. He squirmed indecisively for a minute before working up the courage to storm in to comfort her. He hesitated in his determined charge right before he pushed the door open, reminded of Ziva gate crashing the men's room to scold him for his fear of bugs. He smiled at the memory and, taking strength from Ziva, pushed the door open with such vehemence that it banged against the wall, making Abby and the rest of the women fiddling with their hair in front of the mirror jump in shock.

A couple of the women shrieked and abandoned their vanity to push past him and escape the violated bathroom. The remaining women narrowed their eyes suspiciously but allowed him to come in, watching with interest and envy as he threw his arms around the hysterical woman sobbing in the corner.

'Abby,' he muttered into her black hair. 'Ziva isn't in another coma, she is just resting,' he soothed. Abby twisted her head up to look at him, her eyes requesting another consolation. 'She isn't going to go back into a coma. She is Ziva, remember. She can cope with anything.' Abby nodded and wiped away her tears, her mascara streaking even more. He guided her out of the bathroom, nodding gratefully to the women still standing at the sink, accepting the male intruder, jealous of the affection between the two.

Abby tiptoed cautiously into Ziva's room, ashamed of her tantrum earlier. 'Sorry, Ziva,' she mumbled, crossing the room as quietly as she could manage in her platform shoes. 'I'm so glad that you're awake.' She took the only free hand of Ziva's and lifted it to her lips. 'I missed you so much.'

McGee patted her leg gently, muttering similar sentiments under his breath, before looking around the room. 'Where's Gibbs?' he asked Tony.

Tony shrugged. 'He hasn't been yet,' he replied.

Abby looked up at this. 'What?' she exclaimed. 'Where is he?'

McGee took out his phone and pressed it to his ear, waiting for it to stop ringing and Gibbs to bark his name into the mouthpiece. Nothing happened and the call went to voicemail. 'Um, Gibbs, it's McGee. Uh, we wondered where you were. Um, well, uh, call me back when you get this. We are all with Ziva at the hospital, um, yeah. Bye.' He hung up, his ears pink. 'No reply,' he announced. Tony rolled his eyes, the normal Tony slowly returning. 'Where can he be?' McGee asked the room in general, sitting down next to Abby.

'Maybe he's with Ducky?' Abby suggested.

McGee frowned. 'Do you think anyone's told Ducky?' he asked. Tony shook his head. 'I better do that,' McGee sighed, taking his phone out again and leaving the room.

Abby turned to Tony, her eyes wide. 'Do you think that Gibbs is alright?'

Tony snorted. 'He'll just have stopped to stock up on coffee. It's going to be a long night.' He gestured at Ziva's sleeping body. 'She isn't going to wake up long enough to have a conversation for a while.'

'Has she talked?' Abby inquired curiously. Tony hesitated before nodding. 'What did she say?' Abby asked eagerly.

'That's private, Abby,' Tony replied coldly. Abby's face fell for the second time since she arrived. 'Sorry, Abby,' Tony apologised. 'But it is.'

McGee returned and sat down, the three staring at Ziva in silence, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Ducky and Palmer hurried through the door soon after the call and joined the group waiting around her bed.

The night passed slowly, just as Tony predicted, and by the wee hours only Tony and Ducky remained awake. The morning came, and Abby's eyes slowly opened, her head lifting off McGee's padded shoulder. She looked around, noting the sleeping figures slumped in the chairs around Ziva, before fixing on Tony's alert body.

'No Gibbs?' she inquired.

'He never came all night,' Tony replied. 'I called him three more times and left three voicemails but he hasn't called back. Sorry, Abby.'

'He'll come,' Abby muttered, more to herself than Tony.

McGee sat up, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft light in the room. 'No Gibbs?' he asked.

'Not yet,' Abby answered, positive that he would come.

Gibbs stretched out, his back aching after a night sleeping on a bench in a cemetery. He opened his eyes and stood up, yearning for coffee. He knelt in front of a grave, bowing his head and gritting his teeth to stop the threatening tears from squeezing out between his tightly shut eyelids. He reached out and traced the engraving, muttering the name, 'Jennifer Shepard.' He sat up straight and swallowed, ignoring his craving for caffeine. 'She's awake, Jenny,' he repeated the words he had spoken the night before. 'She's properly awake.' He paused, sighing and clenching his fists in agitation. 'I'm scared, Jen,' he admitted. 'I can't see her broken again. It was different when she was sleeping, she wasn't herself then. But, Jen, I don't think that I can do the whole repairing thing all over again. She won't be able to put herself back together this time.' He kissed his fingers and touched the stone. 'I miss you, Jen. I don't want to have to miss her too.' He nodded sadly and stood up. 'For you, I will go. I know that I should but… I will, Jen, for you and for her.' He turned and began the long walk back to his badly parked car. 'She needs you, Jen,' he muttered to himself. 'I can't save her again. I'm not enough. I'll fail her.'

Ten minutes later, a traffic camera picked up a blue hatchback speeding through a red light in the direction of the hospital. The driver was intent on getting to his destination as fast as possible and did not hear the tumult of beeps that accompanied his dangerous driving. He could not waste anymore time. Ziva would need all the help she could get. It was going to be a difficult recovery.


	9. I Thank You

**Last chapter with Ziva semiconscious. Loving the response for this story – only thing which keeps my fingers going…**

Tony's heart was bursting with happiness. He was too exultant to express his joy at the miracle that was Ziva. She had woken up despite impossible hurdles. She was amazing. He grinned and squeezed her hand again, noting that he would have to control himself she would get a bruised hand.

The door opened and Abby came in, balancing four cups of cheap hospital coffee in her arms. 'Coffee,' she announced.

McGee leapt out of his seat to help her hand them out.

'Thank you, my dear,' Ducky smiled.

'My pleasure, Ducky,' she returned.

'Tony,' McGee prompted, holding out a cup.

'Thank you, Tim,' Tony thanked. McGee beamed at the unusual use of his first name. 'And thank you Abby,' Tony added, turning with a wide grin to Abby.

'Glad to be of use,' Abby gushed.

They had been overly polite the whole morning for two reasons. Firstly, they were overflowing with inexpressible joy at Ziva's waking and wanted to make their fellow waiters just as happy as they were. The second reason was less positive: Gibbs had still not come to see Ziva and reassure them that he was alright and they felt the need to tread carefully.

No nurses had come to tend to the sleeping Ziva yet since it was only seven in the morning but none of the group had been able to sleep any longer. They had dispatched Palmer at six to brief Vance on both Ziva and Gibbs's situation.

Abby sat down next to McGee and opposite Ducky. They exchanged regular tentative smiles, the tension rapidly becoming unbearable.

Abby squirmed in her seat for as long as she could manage before opening her mouth and voicing the worry that everyone felt. 'Do you think Gibbs is ok?' she blurted out.

Tony increased the intensity of his staring at Ziva. McGee fiddled with his thumbs, trying to ignore the recent question. It was Ducky who finally answered.

'I am sure that he is fine,' he replied. 'He can take care of himself, Abigail. You need to stop worrying,' he chided.

'I know, Ducky,' Abby groaned. 'But, I'm still worried. He should have come by now. He wouldn't abandon Ziva.'

'Abby…' McGee began.

'Abigail, Jethro obviously needed some time alone,' Ducky said firmly. 'We need to respect that. The past year has not been easy on any of us.'

'I know but…' Abby protested.

'I should have come by now,' Gibbs finished from the doorway. 'I know, Abs, and I'm sorry.'

Abby let out a cry of relief and leapt at him, throwing her arms around him. 'Gibbs, I was so worried,' she scolded. 'You shouldn't do that.'

'Jethro,' Ducky welcomed. 'I trust that you are fine.'

'I am,' Gibbs answered shortly, turning his attention to Ziva. 'Is she?'

Ducky smiled. 'Yes, Ziva is just fine.'

'Thank God,' Gibbs breathed. He passed Abby, gently touching here shoulder, and bent over Ziva to kiss her forehead. 'Thank God.'

He took a seat beside Ducky and they all watched Ziva sleep, enjoying each rise of her chest reminding them that she was alive.

The nurse arrived to check on Ziva twenty minutes later, finding a quiet group of adoring people crowded round her bed, waiting patiently for her to wake up and talk to them.

'How are we all today?' she greeted them. 'The doctor will be coming later today to assess her progression.' She looked around earnestly. 'I hope you aren't expecting her suddenly recover from this. It is a slow process. The doctor will want to talk to you all about the expectations for her recovery at his time,' she told them. She smiled and left.

Gibbs stood up and addressed the room firmly. 'Can I have a moment alone with Ziva?' he requested.

McGee immediately stood up, anxious to accommodate Gibbs's wish. 'Of course,' he agreed. 'Come on, Abby,' he urged, pulling her forcibly out the room. Ducky followed. Tony stood up also, though more reluctantly, and left, glancing back at Gibbs, worried that Ziva would wake up without him present.

'Other people care about her too,' he reminded himself. 'You have to remember that.'

Gibbs waited until he was alone with Ziva before he took her hand and sat down. 'I'm sorry,' he started simply. He blinked, fighting the threatening to fall. 'Oh, Ziva,' he moaned. 'I'm so sorry.' He swallowed, refusing to let himself cry. 'I failed you; I should have come straight away.' He paused, hoping that she would wake up and tell him that he was being stupid. But, just like Kate, she did not comfort him. 'I promise to be here from now on. I won't ever leave you again.' He pressed her hand to his dry lips. 'I missed you, Ziva. You shouldn't have had to go through this. It isn't fair.' His chest shook and he could not hold the tears back anymore. 'I should have been me, it was all my fault,' he cried. 'I'm sorry, Ziva,' he concluded, allowing the sobs to overcome him. 'Ziva,' he whispered, wiping the tears away and regaining his cold composure. 'Ziva, thank you.' He smiled. 'Thank you for waking up and ending this torture, for us and for you.' He stood up and left the room, aiming for the coffee machine.

Abby watched him leave and slipped in behind his retreating back. She crossed the room lightly and took up Gibbs's previous place. 'Hi, Ziva,' she greeted brightly before her cheery attitude crumbled. 'I miss you still,' she admitted. 'I shouldn't because you're awake and alive and you will recover and go home and return to work and come and visit me and be with Tony and…' She paused for breath, her stamina weakened by the frequent prolonged bouts of crying. Her eyes were still red and her cheeks stained with the remnants of smudged mascara. 'You will recover,' she ordered. 'And you will accept your love for Tony.' She narrowed her eyes menacingly. 'You will tell him and marry. You will have babies and spend the rest of your lives together.' She smiled. 'He loves you Ziva and you love him.' She rolled her eyes. 'Even if you two won't admit it, yet.' She bent over to whisper confidentially in Ziva's ear. 'He fell apart, Ziva, without you. He needs you more than ever. So, thank you for saving him.' She sat up straight and let her gaze linger on Ziva for another few seconds before slipping out through the open door, focusing on finding McGee instead of glancing around so she did not notice Tony skulking near the door eavesdropping.

Tony stared after her, frowning. He had missed the whispered part of her sentiments but caught all of the loud parts. It stung him that other people had noticed his failings. It was bad enough that he had not been able to voice his feelings, but to know that other people noticed this too and blamed him… He shook his head, heading through the open door.

He resumed his earlier place, avoiding the seat where Abby and Gibbs had sat. He resented Gibbs for abandoning Ziva on her first night awake and now he also disliked Abby for telling Ziva what he was unable to. It was his job to tell her that he loved her, not Abby's.

His mouth was dry and he could not form the words to rectify his mistake. He was destined to fail Ziva in this aspect forever. 'I miss you, Ziva,' he substituted. 'I really miss you. I need you back by my side.' He demurred over kissing her before sighing and shaking off his reservations and leaning in. She did not return the gesture this time. 'I…I…I…' He slumped back in his chair. 'I can't tell you this, Ziva. I can't tell you that…' He stood up angrily. 'Tony!' he shouted. 'You can tell her when she could die and there is no point but you can't tell her when she really needs it?' He smacked the back of his head. 'Damn it, Tony,' he yelled at himself. 'Do it!' He fell back into the chair. She stirred in her sleep. 'I love you, Ziva,' he murmured. 'I always will.' She rolled over to face him but didn't wake up. He smiled. 'Thank you, Ziva.' He kissed her once more before hurrying out and following Abby, anxious to thank her for giving him the prod he needed to tell her again.

McGee had been lingering around the corner when Abby had passed him on her way out of Ziva's room.

'Abby,' he called.

'Timmy,' she smiled. 'I was looking for you'.

McGee blushed. 'Really? Why?' he asked.

Abby giggled. 'Tim, you are adorable,' she whispered, pulling him into a hug. 'Thank you for being next to me this year. I couldn't have done it without you.'

He wrapped his arms around her. 'I couldn't have done it without you either, Abby,' he murmured into her black hair. 'I love you,' he added thoughtlessly.

Abby pulled away, startled. 'What?' she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

McGee gulped but repeated it, resigning himself to the inevitable rejection.

'I love you too,' Abby replied, kissing him on the lips briefly. 'Always have done,' she told him simply, smiling at him before turning away and hurrying off to find some Caf-Pow! McGee stared after her incredulously.

Tony emerged from Ziva's room and passed a gobsmacked McGee. 'You seen Abby?' he asked, curiously eying McGee. McGee pointed with a trembling finger, speechless. 'Pull yourself together,' Tony advised helpfully.

McGee watched Tony disappear after Abby before turning away, blinking furiously, and retracing Tony's footsteps into Ziva's room.

He took a seat next to her head and touched her cheek gingerly. 'Nothing is inevitable,' he quoted softly. 'You told me that, Ziva,' he remarked. 'And, like always, you were right.' He chuckled. 'Of course you were.' He shook his head, still reeling from the shock. 'Thank you, Ziva.' He stood up and rushed out of the room, searching for Abby.

Ducky saw McGee run out of Ziva's room and hurried into the room, alarmed. When he saw that Ziva was fine, he laughed in relief and sat down next to her, stroking her hand. 'How are you, my dear?' he asked. 'I hope that you have not been plagued by nightmares. You are stronger than that, Ziva. You need to let go of the past and look into the future. This experience has taught us all a lesson.' He nodded reflectively. 'Many people have missed you terribly. Abigail, Timothy, Jethro, Anthony, myself...' He tailed off losing his train of thought. 'Thank you, my dear, for waking up and giving us all new hope.' He nodded respectfully and left, going after the others to invite them to come back to her room.

Once he had gone, Ziva opened her eyes, her weary mind struggling to process all the soliloquies she had been fed, only one standing out in her whirling mind. 'I love you too, Tony,' she moaned, falling back into a light sleep.

**I know that this was long and for that I apologise but I wanted to tie up all loose ends. By that I mean that I lost track of time and didn't want to delete anything. I don't think it is too long anyway.**

**Next chapter begins the recovery and will probably skip forward a few weeks in time to allow for a realistic timescale.**


	10. I Blame You

**Had such trouble with this chapter – I ended up with five versions and two drafts of the final one I chose - so I hope you like it. I was trying to stop the whole reflective, no dialogue thing.**

She shifted in her bed, flinching as the pain shot through her already aching body. Her eyes opened and her blurry vision cleared slowly, revealing an empty room just like the first time she had woken up.

She mumbled incoherently and closed her eyes again, settling back to sleep.

Tony watched her from the doorway, a sad smile on his tired face. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he spun around, expecting McGee.

'Mr DiNozzo,' the doctor greeted. 'How is she?'

'Asleep,' Tony replied curtly. He had still not forgiven the doctor for sending Ziva back into a coma after she woke up, trying to survive. The doctor had not forgotten either, his nose still bandaged.

'She can go home soon,' the doctor revealed, hoping to improve their interaction.

'When?' he asked quickly, allowing the doctor a smile.

'A week,' the doctor estimated. 'She won't be able to stay alone though.'

Tony nodded, turning back to the door, his eyes falling on the sleeping Ziva. 'That'll be fine,' he replied softly.

Once the doctor had left, Tony walked slowly into the room, his smile not wavering. 'Did you hear that, Ziva?' he asked. 'You can go home.' He touched her hand gently and sat down beside her. 'You don't have to put up with being confined to the bed anymore, staring at the same four walls all day, going crazy cooped up in here. You can come home with me,' he finished happily.

'She can go home?' Abby squealed behind him.

He turned around and nodded. 'Yep,' he grinned. 'Next week, the doctor says.'

'That's great!' Abby enthused. 'She hates it here.'

Tony grimaced. 'I don't blame her. I mean, she's never been so helpless before. She doesn't like feeling powerless and trapped.'

'But, Tony,' Abby countered tentatively. 'She is helpless. She can't move without it hurting, she can't speak, she can't stay awake for longer than ten minutes at a time, she can't keep down food, and she still hasn't laughed yet.'

Tony's eyes flashed angrily. 'She isn't helpless,' he defended. 'She just woke up from a year long coma. You wouldn't be able to do any of those things,' he accused.

Abby shrank back into her chair. 'I know, Tony. She's doing great under the circumstances but she's still powerless and feeble. She's amazing and strong somewhere inside but she isn't back to being Ziva yet. You've got to let her do things in her own time. She's been stuck here for two months and she must hate herself for all this weakness.'

'She's not weak,' Tony mumbled.

'Tony,' Abby sighed, jaded by the effort of arguing with a stubborn Tony.

Tony sank down and shrugged, accepting Abby's rational argument. 'Whatever,' he grumbled. 'She's not defeated yet.' Abby smiled sympathetically and patted his knee before leaving him alone with her.

They had all been so optimistic about a faster recovery than the doctor had predicted due to their intimate knowledge of Ziva's strength and determination so, now that Ziva was flailing and only making slight progress, they were disappointed and angry.

Ziva's eyes fluttered open and Tony bent down immediately to listen to any sounds she made in trying to convey her frustration. She groaned faintly and an insipid whimper was emitted before she sank back into her pillow, her eyes dry and unable to cry.

**It's shorter than I usually do but I am so worn out from all the different versions I tried out that I decided I deserved a break.**

**What do you think: more Tiva or something else? I need help!**


	11. I Don't Deserve You

Tony glanced down at his watch and swore quietly under his breath. He pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator, dodging the other cars edging forward on the congested road.

He parked haphazardly in the hospital car park and reached behind him to grab a bag of the mound piled up on the back seat. He slammed the door behind him and hurried through the familiar corridors, clutching the bag. He swung into Ziva's room and beamed at her, delighted by the sight of her sitting up unaided, except for the doctor's shoulder on which she was leaning, on the edge of her bed.

He walked over to her and raised his eyebrows questioningly. 'Ready?' he inquired softly. She nodded, her mouth remaining closed.

She was able to move, but not to walk, to groan and scream in pain, but not to talk. Her progress was slow and frustrating but she was coming on and for that small mercy Tony was inherently glad.

He moved over to her side and took the doctor's place. 'Thank you,' he murmured, having finally forgiven the doctor for sedating her.

A nurse knocked politely on the door, pushing a wheelchair. 'Miss David,' she greeted jovially. 'Are you ready to go home?'

Ziva smiled blandly, her face weak and sore. She gasped as she was lifted into the wheelchair by Tony and the doctor.

'Come on, Ziva,' Tony comforted. 'Let's go home.' He pushed her out along the corridors, retracing his daily walk from sitting at Ziva's side. He had walked through these same halls every day for over a year but this would, hopefully, be the final time. Ziva was going home with him.

He had been dreaming of this moment for fourteen months and, now that it had come at last, it was sweeter than he had ever imagined. All the nurses he passed nodded and greeted him by name, waving to Ziva and smiling back at her. His hand was on Ziva's shoulder, soothing her and reassuring her. He was the one who had come to pick her up and it was his home she was going to.

The day before, the whole team had ferried Ziva's belongings from her hospital room and from the storage locker to Tony's apartment. The undertaking had been masterminded by Abby and directed by Tony. He smiled as he recalled the shouts and laughter that had ensued as Abby shrieked orders and stamped her foot while McGee tumbled down the steps, boxes flying everywhere and Gibbs sighing resignedly. Nothing could ruin the exhilaration they all felt now that Ziva was coming home.

He pushed her out of the hospital and into the car park. She stopped him with her hand and coughed, a rasping hack that made Tony wince uncomfortably as he held her hand. Once she had done, she nodded and he continued the path to his car.

The task of shifting Ziva from the wheelchair to the car was a delicate one and Tony was sweating profusely by the time Ziva was reclining in the passenger seat. Grunting, he folded up the wheelchair and stuffed it into the trunk, before hurrying round and climbing in beside her.

'Ready?' he asked again, excitement laced into his question.

She nodded silently, her only form of positive communication.

'Home,' he announced, starting the engine.

Driving along the main road at a snail's pace, he tried to alleviate the tense silence with a disjointed monologue. 'Perhaps it's a good thing that you can't drive,' he reflected. 'You would have killed us both by now in this traffic.' He laughed softly at his own joke, making up for her inability to laugh without crying afterwards at the pain in her chest and face. 'I brought your weapons to my house,' he informed her conversationally. 'But I locked them up.' Her face remained passive. 'I have to go to work tomorrow but I'll come back as soon as possible. Gibbs won't keep me for longer than necessary.' His voice dropped and became gentle and caring. 'We all missed you, Ziva, and everybody is excited that you are coming home.'

She sank back further into the soft cushion of the car seat and Tony gave up his futile attempt to draw her out of her shell. She was angry and aggravated with herself and the world and she would retreat from her guarded shell when she was ready, he comforted himself. She had been locked up inside a nightmare for a year and now she was a helpless rag doll with no strength or confidence. It would take time for her to become Ziva again.

He drove carefully through the traffic as if he was driving a milk float laden with fragile glass bottles. He parked just as cautiously and helped her slowly back into the wheelchair she would be confined to until she found the potency to walk or stand. Until then, she was an invalid.

The lift up to his apartment was jerky and slow and, trapped in a small metal box together, the silence became unbearable.

'I cleaned,' Tony assured her, his voice oddly loud and echoing. 'All your stuff's there,' he continued, disregarding the lack of response he got in return.

He wheeled her out of the lift when it finally arrived, and paused at the front door, struggling to find his key. She rolled her eyes and reached her own trembling hand into his back pocket, retrieving the key quickly, though she paused almost imperceptibly with her fingers cupping his ass. His eyes widened at the unfamiliar touch and he swallowed, wondering if he felt right. He took the keys from her, his own hands shaking slightly, and opened the door.

He had been telling the truth; the apartment was tidy and dustless. She nodded approvingly, the reminder of their old sexual tension evaporating her depression momentarily.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, both minds preoccupied with thoughts. As Tony pottered around the kitchen making dinner, he tortured himself trying to decide whether she had lingered in his pocket, enjoying the feel or whether she had just innocently been helping him out in her impatience. Ziva was imagining the next few weeks with her sitting useless in the wheelchair while Tony dashed around doing everything for her like her prison bitch. She hated being powerless and hopeless, inadequate and worthless. Her eyes rested on Tony's busy body and she wondered what he was thinking of her; whether he felt she was a burden or whether he was pleased to help her out in her time of incompetence.


	12. I Hurt You

After six hours of sleepless tossing and turning, Tony eventually gave up trying to rest and swung his legs over the side of the bed, throwing his duvet to the ground. He padded softly out of the tiny spare room and down the short hall to the master bedroom. The door was ajar, just the way he had left it when he left the previous night, and he paused, biting his lip thoughtfully, before he slipped in. He crossed over to the bed, his eyes fixed on the peaceful form of Ziva lying underneath the blanket, her chest rising and falling as she snored softly. He chuckled lightly at the sound; it proved that she would wake up from the sleep punctually.

He perched gingerly on the bed beside her, taking her hand in his. Her eyes remained closed and the snoring continued steadily.

He bent over to kiss her cheek and, spontaneously, he decided to move his lips up to her ear. 'I love you,' he murmured, brushing the curtain of hair away with his free hand.

'I love you too, Tony,' she breathed, almost inaudibly.

Tony started, jumping thoroughly out of skin, and stared at her in disbelief. She hadn't spoken for over a year. These couldn't really be her first words, could they?

'You're supposed to say Mama or Dada or something like that,' he told her softly.

She opened one eye and gazed lazily up at him. She smiled pleasantly and opened her mouth to say something else but instead was overcome by a fit of coughing.

Tony grabbed her shoulders and hugged her into him, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. She collapsed weakly on him and let herself be held close, all the things that they had never said to each other lingering in the air like a stagnant pond but just far enough away not to be immediately affected by the rotting stench of silence and unspoken feelings.

Tony kissed the top of her head and unwrapped his arms from around her, placing them on his knees, not touching her at all. She lay back on the bed, staring up at him through her soft, brown orbs.

'You spoke,' Tony commented, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

She screwed up her face in order to force the words out. 'Yes, I did,' she agreed hoarsely.

He strained his ears to hear her speech. 'You are getting better,' he moralised her.

'Slowly,' she added in a grating rasp.

He frowned sympathetically and touched her cheek gently with his forefinger. 'You are going to pull through this, Ziva,' he told her. 'You are going to recover fully using that immense reserve of strength you have in you.'

She turned her face away from him, her eyes blank and emotionless as they gazed blindly at the wood grain of the bedside table.

'Hey,' he whispered. 'You are so special, Ziva. You can do this.' He crawled off the bed and knelt in her line of sight, forcing her to look at him. 'I believe in you.'

He was rewarded for his motivational speech with a watery smile and a slow blink before the room was filled with repetitive snoring once again.

Tony remained kneeled beside the bed, watching her, until his alarm clock beeped in the adjacent room and he was compelled to leave hurriedly to prevent it waking the resting Ziva.

He did not return to Ziva's side but trudged into the kitchen, still wearing his cotton pyjamas, and began to sift through his recipe books to find something suitable for Ziva's delicate palette.

Holding the cookery book in one hand and stirring the mixture in the other hand, Tony hummed an uplifting Hebrew song to himself. He began to sway to his own singing and was very soon dancing by himself in the kitchen, careful not to overturn the mixing bowl.

'You dance well,' came a quiet voice from the doorway, and he spun round, knocking the bowl of the counter in his surprise. Sitting in her wheelchair, smiling in the doorway, was Ziva. Her hands were folded in her lap and her legs were dragging along the ground, but she had managed to move herself off the bed and into her artificial legs all by herself.

'Ziva,' Tony exclaimed, ignoring the spilt breakfast in a puddle on his formerly anally spotless floor. 'How did you…Why are you…When did you…'

She laughed at his adorable speechlessness. She declined to answer due to her burning throat but cocked her head to one side amused by his astonishment. Her arms were exhausted from the burst of energy needed to drag herself to the edge of the bed and hold the wheelchair steady while she pulled herself into it, and she could not bring herself to propel herself across the carpet to him. She sat still and waited for him to cotton on to her plight and offer his assistance which she accepted gratefully. She stubbornly refused to ask for help unless absolutely necessary. Her pride had already been wounded enough.

He pushed her up to the table and floundered, his breakfast plans lying in a mess on the floor. He pulled the fridge door open and hopefully peered inside. 'Aha,' he proclaimed jubilantly, holding up a bottle of smoothie. He placed it in front of her and she lifted it up to inspect its label.

'Berry madness, my favourite,' she smiled. 'You remembered.'

He grinned back at her. 'Of course I remembered,' he replied sincerely. 'I remember everything about you. Your memory was all I lived in for a year.' He clamped his mouth shut, instantly kicking himself for saying too much. 'I mean…' he tried desperately to rectify his mistake.

'No,' she shook her head, rejecting his frantic correction. 'I'm sorry, Tony.'

He snorted, swallowing the tears that threatened to cascade freely down his so far dry cheeks. 'You have nothing to be sorry about, Ziva,' he protested. He smiled feebly, tears sliding down his face. 'You woke up and that's all that matters.'

He buried his face in his hands, trying to cover up the sobs that choked him. She looked on, helpless to do anything to comfort him and feel terribly guilty. She had done this to him and it wasn't fair.


	13. I Save You

She drank her smoothie in silence, respectfully averting her gaze while Tony dried his eyes and composed himself.

'Ziva,' he ventured tentatively.

'Tony,' she interrupted. 'Don't be sorry.'

He smiled and shook his head resignedly. 'I shouldn't have put this on you, you have been through enough.'

She raised her eyebrows. 'Are you done?' she inquired curtly. 'You have done nothing. Who is it who always told me that you should not hide from feelings and be afraid to trust and share?' She leant forward and, ignoring the burning pain that shot through her arm as she lifted it, she took Tony's hand and squeezed it, swallowing her gasp. 'I am sorry, Tony, that you had to go through that.' She lowered to head to gaze wearily at the table. 'But, I'm here now,' she added quietly. 'Ready.'

He nodded and stood up, taking the empty bottle from her and kissing the top of her head. 'I missed you, Ziva. Every day.'

She swivelled her wheelchair around to watch him as he dropped the bottle into the bin, flicked on the radio and went out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, dressing noisily and in haste, so that he emerged with his buttons done up wrong.

He bent down so that they were at the same level and looked at her sincerely. 'I have to go now,' he told her sadly. 'But Abby will be coming over in a few minutes to look after you for the morning and then I will be back.'

She nodded, understanding but wishing he didn't have to leave her. 'Bye Tony,' she waved, resisting the urge to stop the ache in her hand by slamming it against the wall.

'Behave,' he called over his shoulder, as if she was a child left alone with a babysitter. She laughed drily before sighing as the door clicked shut behind him.

'Love you,' she whispered, the words seeming alien already. They hadn't spoken of their little exchange earlier and Ziva was uncertain whether Tony would ever bring it up again, whether she would ever bring it up again, whether either of them would ever say it again. She slumped back in her wheelchair and let her misery overwhelm her, sobs choking her and large tears rolling freely down her dishevelled cheeks. Her wails drowned out the music blurting out of the radio.

Tony climbed into his car, glancing hopefully up at his window, desperate to see her face watching him leave with a sad smile on her face. The window was empty. He turned the key roughly and pressed down hard on the accelerator, willing himself to rush through the day so that he could return to her as quickly as possible. The traffic lights in front of him were red. He considered risking it but at the last minute he slammed down hard on the brake. Ziva's recklessness at the wheel might not have been the cause of her coma, but it could easily have been. He resolved to persuade her to take driving lessons and renew her licence. He couldn't bear to lose her again. 'Love you,' he murmured softly, glancing down at the picture of her he had stuck behind the wheel. He scowled and turned on the radio, desperate to drown out the guilt he felt from not expanding on their moment early that morning. He gritted his teeth and brushed away the tears that dripped down his cheek. Gibbs would be overly worried if he turned up with damp cheeks and red eyes, fearing the worst about Ziva. No one deserved that again. The first time had been awful enough to last them a lifetime of fear.

Abby skipped down to her car, her pigtails flapping about her face. She hopped into her car and turned on the radio, singing loudly to the rock blaring into the air. She grinned broadly at the tight lipped businessmen stuffed into dull suits and ties who eyed her warily from inside their identical black Mercedes. She drove carefully through the traffic, desperate to arrive at Ziva's before Tony left so that Ziva would not be alone at all that day.

She parked outside Tony's apartment and switched off the radio, searching the street for Tony's car. She decided ruefully that he must have left and hurried up the stairs to his apartment, frantically digging out the keys Tony had lent her. Situations ran wildly rampant through her head. What if Ziva had suffocated alone in bed, unable to call out for help? What if Ziva had become so depressed and bored that she had slit her own throat and had bled out on Tony's bed, lying in a pool of her own blood? What if Ziva had fallen down and broken her leg, screaming out in agony until finally she fainted from the pain and returned to her coma, just because Abby hadn't woken up on time? What if Ziva...? Abby eventually found the keys and pulled them out triumphantly, dropping them onto the floor. They skidded down the hallway and Abby scrambled around trying to find them.

'Abby?' a voice called huskily. 'Abby?'

Abby jumped up and spun around, instantly recognising the accent. 'Ziva!' she screamed delightedly. 'You're up!'

Ziva smiled and nodded. 'Yes, I am,' she agreed.

'And you can talk!' Abby continued her shouts of joy.

'Yes, I can,' Ziva agreed again, steeling herself for the inevitable hug.

Abby swooped down and enveloped Ziva in a hug. She pulled away sooner than usual, careful not to suffocate Ziva. She stepped back to admire Ziva and her mouth fell open in horror. 'Ziva!' she cried. 'What happened to you?'

Ziva's hands flew to her face, feeling the damp skin of her cheeks. 'Oh,' she shrugged. 'Getting out of bed this morning was a little painful.'

Abby's face was immediately filled with sympathy. 'Oh, Ziva,' she consoled. 'That's such a shame. And I wasn't here to help.' She dropped to her knees to quickly retrieve the keys. 'Let's get you back into bed.

Ziva felt guilty straight away. 'Abby, it wasn't your fault. I could have waited.' She rolled her eyes. 'I am too stubborn sometimes.'

Abby laughed and wheeled Ziva into the apartment. 'Bed?' she offered. 'Breakfast? I could make you some pancakes.'

'I am fine,' Ziva protested. 'I am not tired and I have already eaten.' Abby's face fell. 'But, thank you, Abby, for coming. It means a lot to have a friend willing to give up their day to sit with me.'

Abby beamed. 'I would do anything for you, Ziva,' she told her cheerfully.

The morning passed quickly, with Abby sitting watching television while Ziva either slept or watched too. Abby's thoughts were calm and focused on Ziva's wellbeing whereas Ziva was preoccupied with Tony and feelings and how things would play out that afternoon.

A knock at the door pulled the two peaceful ladies out of their slumberous laze and Abby rushed to the door. 'Tony,' she greeted. 'You're home.'

He hugged her back briefly before peering round her at Ziva, seated by the sofa in her wheelchair.

'Ziva,' he called. 'How was your morning?'

She swivelled her chair round. 'Fine, Tony,' she replied.

'Good.' Tony gave Abby a meaningful glance and she excused herself politely.

'Bye Abby,' they both shouted after her in tandem.

He smiled and moved over to sit by her. 'I missed you today, Ziva,' he admitted.

'Me too,' she revealed. 'I couldn't stop thinking about you.'

He took her hand and kissed it lightly. 'I'm sorry for this morning,' he murmured.

'The emotional outburst?' she asked.

'No,' he shook his head. 'For ignoring what you said.'

'What did I say?' she asked, although she knew what he was referring to.

'I told you that I loved you and you replied that you did too,' he stated frankly.

'I do,' she told him evenly.

'So do I,' he returned, smiling happily.


	14. I Welcome You

Tony handed Ziva her crutches and helped her out of the car. Ziva's eyes sparkled in the morning sunlight and danced with anticipation of the day. Tony met her grin with an equally wide smile, and they moved slowly towards the doors of the NCIS headquarters, Ziva hobbling painfully while Tony trudged along side.

The elevator doors pinged open and the pair were met by a shriek and a flying leap from an overexcited scientist, throwing her arms around Ziva. Ziva could not return the embrace due to her crutches keeping her upright but she buried her head gratefully in Abby's shoulder, flattered by the warm welcome. McGee met her next and gave her a tentative hug before Gibbs appeared and shook Ziva's hand warmly.

'It's good to have you back, Ziva,' he greeted.

'It's good to be back, Gibbs,' she replied, limping towards her desk.

Tony dropped her bag on the floor beside her and took a seat behind his own desk, facing her with a broad beam on his face. The desk opposite his had stood empty and lonely for one and a half years but now it had its owner back again. Ziva was back.

Abby strode up and down the bullpen, relating stories to Ziva and relishing the laughter she got in return. Eventually, Gibbs sent her away and let Ziva rest in her chair, paperwork sprawled on her desk already waiting to be filled in.

The morning passed uneventfully and the four agents were chomping happily on the Chinese takeaway Tony had fetched for lunch, when Gibbs's phone rang.

'Dead Petty Officer, time to go,' he barked, sliding his gun into its holster.

Tony and McGee copied him and within seconds three agents stood ready to go. Only Ziva remained eating without looking up.

Gibbs marched out of the bullpen and towards the elevator, not glancing back at Ziva, but Tony and McGee hesitated.

'You going to be alright here on your own?' Tony asked.

'Sure,' she answered curtly, still focusing on eating.

'Ok,' he accepted reluctantly. 'Well, uh, bye then.'

'Bye,' she waved through a mouthful of noodles. Once they had disappeared into the elevator, she slumped down in her seat, throwing her noodles into the bin disgustedly.

'Better get used to this, Ziva,' she muttered sulkily. 'Now that you're a cripple, you are going to be left behind all the time.'

'Just like me,' chirped up a voice from behind her. Ziva spun round in her chair.

'Abby,' she smiled.

'You aren't alone,' Abby scolded. 'Come down to my lab,' she ordered, disappearing again.

Ziva considered the command before shrugging and stumbling to her feet, her arms slipping neatly into her crutches. She tottered out of the elevator and staggered towards the doors to Abby's lab.

'Here I am,' she announced.

'Ziva,' Abby cried, enveloping her in another hug, pressing a button on a remote control. Just like when she had returned from Somalia, a banner leapt from the ceiling, making Ziva jump backwards. 'Welcome back,' Abby grinned, helping Ziva into a chair. 'We're going to have such fun.'

Ziva returned the smile and found herself looking forwards to the next time Gibbs left to investigate a crime scene and she could spend some time with Abby.

'So,' Abby began, preparing herself for a long conversation. 'I want to know everything.' Ziva frowned, uncertain where Abby was going to take this. 'First, what's going on with you and Tony?' she demanded.

Ziva smiled secretly, enjoying the memories that stemmed from Abby's words. 'Everything,' she replied, her eyes sparkling again though this time it wasn't due to any light but because her delight at the thought of the coming evening when she would be alone with Tony. 'Absolutely everything,' she continued. She settled herself into the chair and got ready to share the whole story.

Gibbs turned to Tony, pressing down on the accelerator. 'So,' he prompted. 'What's going on with you and Ziva?'

Tony's eyes widened but not in trepidation or surprise. He was looking forward to sharing the narrative. Rule Twelve had been completely forgotten and replaced with pure, innocent, blind, eagerly waited for love.

'You can stop your search for another apartment for Ziva,' Tony started. 'She won't need one.'

Gibbs grinned. 'Never started looking,' he replied, chuckling.

**I think that this is it – story finished. I don't really have any clue where I could take this and interest in it seems to be wavering. I had two reviews for the last chapter and, although lots of people read it, perhaps they didn't like it so I can't be bothered to summon up any more ideas for this story. I don't seem to be any good at writing Ziva conscious in this story. I hope you liked it though.**


	15. I Marry You

Just to be clear, I did not stop because I was not getting reviews, I stopped because I had run out of ideas. Some of the reviews I got for the last chapter gave me new inspiration so I thought I would take another stab at it.

_Ziva stood up, the grin that appeared every time she reminded herself that she was better widely displayed on her face. She walked carefully across the room and perched on the edge of a box._

'_Is that everything?' she asked Tony, who was heaving another box into the living room._

'_I think so,' he replied, panting as he placed the box down. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up, carrying her across the room, weaving between boxes and out the door._

'_Where are we going?' she giggled, fondling his muscles admiringly._

_He turned around, ignoring the complaints from his aching back, and hugged her tighter to his chest. 'I am carrying you across the threshold,' he announced, walking ceremonially through the open door._

_She giggled again. 'Tony, you are only meant to do that when we are married,' she told him, nestling into his neck._

_He looked down at her seriously. 'Well, we are as good as married,' he shrugged. 'Why not pretend that we are?'_

_She wriggled out of his arms and stood in front of him, stroking his cheek affectionately. 'Because we aren't,' she replied evenly._

_He scooped her back up and carried her into the bedroom. 'And why not?'_

_She frowned and kissed his chin. 'Because you haven't asked.'_

'_Oh, is that all I have to do?' he grinned, dropping her gently on the bed and kneeling down, reaching into his pocket. 'Ziva David, will you marry me?'_

_She beamed so widely that it almost stretched to her ears. 'Yes,' she answered quietly._

Ziva hugged the pillow to herself, remembering that moment when she knew that she was not dreaming and their love was real and actually progressing out of the stage of denial it had been stagnating in since they met.

She fingered her ring and hopped lightly off the bed, running into the kitchen of their hotel room.

'Ziva,' Tony greeted, suffocating her in a hug. 'Good morning Mrs DiNozzo.'

She kissed him gently, raking her hands through his damp hair. 'You showered without me,' she remarked.

He chuckled and ran his hands down her back. 'I took a cold shower,' he explained, grinning at her. 'I needed it after last night.'

'Why don't you take a warm one now?' she asked.

In answer, he pulled her t-shirt over her head and pulled her into the bathroom. He dropped the towel from his waist and climbed into the shower with her. The cubicle was cramped and their bodies were pressed up against each other.

'Tony,' she moaned into his shoulder.

'Yes,' he replied, his voice hoarse and rasping.

'I love you.'

'Of course you do,' he replied cheekily.

She punched him playfully and looked up at him. 'You seemed to enjoy last night. But, if you don't love me, maybe tonight won't be so harmless.' She fingered his chest provocatively.

Tony glanced at his bruises from the previous night and gulped. 'And,' he continued, 'of course, I love you too.' He kissed her forehead, suddenly transported back to the hospital. 'I love you more than anything. I could never lose you again.'

Her eyes widened. They hardly ever spoke of the coma; it was a painful memory for both of them. 'You never lost me,' she whispered. 'And you never will.'

He pressed her closer to him and pushed her up against the wall.

Over an hour later, once they were thoroughly clean, they emerged, somewhat breathless, from the bathroom, sharing a towel.

'What were you doing before I woke up?' she asked, seeing the kitchen in disarray.

'Before you distracted me, you mean?' he nudged her. 'I was making breakfast.'

She skipped over to the oven and peered into the abandoned mess. 'What were you making?' she inquired curiously.

'Pancakes,' he told her, joining her and pointing at the congealed mix.

'Oh, is that what that is?' She wrinkled her nose. 'You get dressed, I will show you how you make pancakes,' she ordered.

'Don't you need to get dressed too?'

She looked at him coyly under her eyelashes. 'You don't want me to cook for you naked?'

Tony gulped and hurried into the bedroom, taking the towel with him. 'You can get dressed anytime,' he called over his shoulder. 'Boy, I'm starving.'

She laughed and began to move swiftly around the kitchen, hearing him clatter around the bedroom, desperate to dress as quickly as possible and return to see the spectacle. The room went silent and she could feel his awestruck gaze burning into her exposed body.

'You like pancakes?' she asked softly.

'Love them,' he choked. 'Absolutely adore them.'

'Good,' she said, flinging a pancake across the kitchen onto a plate on the table. 'Enjoy.'

He moved over to the table but did not take his eyes off her. 'You should wear that more often,' he advised. 'It looks good on you.'

She chuckled and flipped another pancake onto the other plate and joined him at the table, making no move to get dressed.

'Bon appétit,' she wished.

He nodded and began to eat, his eyes still focused on the top half of her body.

She shook her head resignedly and chunks of pancake missed his mouth and fell into his lap. Sighing theatrically, she got up and went over to him, picking up the bits of pancake before taking their place on his lap.

She twisted her head round and kissed him, her eyes gazing deeply into his, watching the reflection of her own brown orbs in his green ones.

'Enjoying your honeymoon?' Tony murmured.

'It's wonderful,' she replied.

'It's going to get even better,' he informed her, standing up with her still in his arms and carrying her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

**I will update if I have any more ideas but otherwise I hope that I have wrapped it up nicely. And, I would just like to point out again, I did not give up because of the lack of reviews. I think maybe my comment at the end of the last chapter was misleading. **


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